


how can we be ordinary

by nappeuns



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, mostly lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 15:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21078872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nappeuns/pseuds/nappeuns
Summary: It wasn’t hard for Guanheng to like working at the cafe. His boss, Kun, was always incredibly patient with him; his favourite coworkers, Xuxi and Yangyang, always kept every shift interesting; and it paid well, and was close to the subway station and to Guanheng’s university. That, and the cafe usually had a regular set of clientele, meaning that Guanheng was able to get to know the people he saw everyday.It also meant that Guanheng usually noticed when someone new showed up. Like the young, handsome guy with the strong cheekbones and even stronger brows who approached the counter the one morning, looking hesitant as he scanned his eyes over the menu.





	how can we be ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> written as part of weishen fest for prompt #W042: A Xiaodery coffee shop AU in which Hendery is a really chatty barista and Xiaojun is a quiet new customer who turns out to be a published poet/novelist but has gone AWOL after his most recent work.
> 
> this fic was such a change from my usual pace! i'm usually the type to write things that are more romantic-comedy types, so it was nice to write a fic with minimal drama. this was also my first time writing for wayv, and i'm SO glad that i got the chance to do this prompt! the world needs more xiaodery!!
> 
> i use guanheng to refer to hendery in this fic, and xuxi to refer to lucas! if that bothers you, then i'm... very sorry lol. regardless of naming conventions, i hope you enjoy!
> 
> (the title is from ordinary by two door cinema club!)

“Guanheng!” Kun called from the front of the cafe, and Guanheng looked up from where he was washing dishes in the back sink. When he stuck his head through the door, his boss was sitting at the bar, a few papers and his chequebook open in front of him. Kun nodded his head towards the front counter expectantly. “Customer,” he added quietly.

Guanheng wiped his hands hurriedly on his apron at that, rushing to reach the register. Sure enough, a woman was waiting there, a well-dressed lady looking to be in her mid-fifties. “Hello, welcome to Vision Coffee Roasters,” he greeted warmly, putting on his best smile. “What can I get for you today?”

It was a quiet time for the cafe, almost closing, the sun already sunken beneath the high-rises and mountains of Hong Kong’s skyline. Despite the late hour, though, the heat of July still bled in through the cafe’s windows, only abated by the heavy-duty air conditioning system Kun had made sure to install before the cafe had opened. The summer season made it even quieter than usual, the only people coming to the cafe being professors who worked at the nearby university or wealthy students still in the area who were able to afford high end coffee. Most of those had already left the area for the day, though, and half an hour after Guanheng’s last customer left, Kun got up to lock the doors for the night. 

“Good work tonight,” Kun told Guanheng as he stacked the chairs on top of the tables, and Guanheng flashed him a grin. Kun returned with a soft smile in return and waved Guanheng off, always the generous and gentle boss. “Just finish stacking the chairs, then you can head out,” he continued. “I’ll sweep. I’ve got some stuff to handle here anyways.”

“Our paycheques, hopefully?” Guanheng joked, knowing that Kun wouldn’t mind. His boss had always been relaxed with Guanheng and the rest of the staff; it was one of the reasons why Guanheng liked working here as much as he did. “Xuxi was talking about buying new shoes this week, but rent is coming up.”

Kun rolled his eyes and Guanheng had to try his best not to burst out laughing. “Of course,” Kun said tiredly. “He’ll get his paycheque on time, as always. Whether he blows it all before rent is due and gets himself evicted isn’t my problem, though.” 

Guanheng couldn’t help but laugh at that, untying his apron as he made his way to the back. “You say that now, but we all know you’d give any of us the shirt off your back if we asked!” Guanheng teased, and laughed even harder when he heard an exasperated “Go  _ home _ , Guanheng!” in return.

It wasn’t hard for Guanheng to like working at the cafe. His boss, Kun, was always incredibly patient with him; his favourite coworkers, Xuxi and Yangyang, always kept every shift interesting; it paid well, was close to the subway station and to Guanheng’s university; and Guanheng got to enjoy high quality caffeine rushes, rather than instant coffee highs that always made Guanheng feel like his insides were burning. That, and the cafe usually had a regular set of clientele, meaning that Guanheng was able to get to know the people he saw everyday. He always enjoyed making people smile when he remembered their names and usual orders, that little bit of extra brightness that was needed for some of the stressed out students who came through the cafe’s doors.

It also meant that Guanheng usually noticed when someone new showed up. Like the young, handsome guy who approached the counter the next morning, looking hesitant as he scanned his eyes over the menu. He wasn’t handsome in a typical way— he was on the shorter side, lithe to the point of being almost scrawny, with strong cheekbones and stronger brows. He wasn’t like the type of guy you would see on billboards, although that had never been Guanheng’s type anyway. 

Guanheng waited a few moments as the man looked at the menu before he spoke, both to give the man time to decide and to give himself time to take his image in. “Hi,” he began gently, putting on his best smile— the man seemed to startle a bit, as if he hadn’t realized Guanheng was there. “Is there anything I can get started for you?”

“Um,” the guy stuttered, eyes flickering between the menu and Guanheng uncertainly. His voice was deeper than Guanheng would have thought, and the sound vibrated pleasantly in Guanheng’s chest. “A hazelnut latte would be great, please.”

As handsome as he was, though, that wasn’t the reason he stuck out in Guanheng’s mind. He’d worked at the cafe for a year now— there were a lot of good-looking people he’d seen once, taken the opportunity to appreciate, then never seen again. No, the reason why this guy was memorable was because Guanheng saw him once at the cafe, then proceeded to see him every day after that, always ordering the same hazelnut latte. And he didn’t just order his latte to go and leave— they had a few customers like that, usually university staff coming in during the morning rush for a coffee before work; the young man would order his latte to stay, then proceed to sit in the cafe for hours, typing away occasionally on his laptop, meaning that Guanheng, whenever he was working, got to stare at this young man’s face for hours each day. 

It was also a bit curious to Guanheng that someone that young had the money to spare in order to come to the cafe for hours each day. Guanheng wasn’t under any illusions of their drinks being cheap— Kun was always boasting about the quality of the beans they used, and Guanheng had nearly memorized his boss’s speech about how they were roasted in small batches, sustainable fair trade, and so on. For someone to be able to buy coffee from their cafe every day usually meant that they worked some high paying job, but this guy spent most of his time sitting in the cafe typing away on his laptop. He usually sat in a corner spot, back to the wall, so Guanheng couldn’t even get a peek at what he was doing on his laptop all day. Needless to say, Guanheng was more than a little curious. 

“Dude,” Xuxi said one day while restocking the pastry display, after nearly two weeks of this guy showing up every single day. (Even on the days Guanheng wasn’t working— he’d bothered his coworkers about it to check.) “Why don’t you just talk to him? Don’t normal people do that?”

“Yes, if only,” Guanheng’s other coworker, Yangyang, called from the other end of the bar, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the sound of him cleaning the milk steamer and the espresso machine. “Unfortunately though, Guanheng’s not a normal person, so he’s probably just going to stare at this guy until he makes him so uncomfortable that he stops coming here.”

“First of all, ouch, Yangyang,” Guanheng replied from the till, placing a hand over his chest in offence. “Second of all, my staring will not make him uncomfortable. I make sure to be careful about it, so it won’t bother him.”

Yangyang turned off the steamer and turned his head to look over his shoulder, giving Xuxi an exasperated look. “We failed at integrating him into society,” he said seriously, then laughed when Guanheng took a swipe at him. 

“Oh, oh, look, here he comes,” Xuxi said suddenly, and Guanheng whipped his head around so fast that he nearly knocked himself off balance. And sure enough, there the guy was, walking along the glass storefront to the door and pulling it open. He looked good today, a bit more dressed up than usual, a blazer and slacks on despite the heat and humidity that stuck around during Hong Kong’s summers. He shrugged off the blazer as he made his way up to the till and Guanheng felt like he was going to melt.

“A hazelnut latte,” the man said in the absence of any response from Guanheng, stuffing a hand into his pocket to fish out his wallet. He paused a second later, looking up with wide eyes, and the transformation in his image from a hot young professional to his usual bookish type was jarring. “Oh, I’m sorry, that was so rude,” he interrupted himself, sounding shocked at his own actions. “I didn’t even greet you, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay!” Guanheng hurried to defend, throwing his hands up. He pasted his winning smile onto his face, hurrying to punch the man’s order into the till. “It’s okay, I’m not offended.” He hesitates then, wondering if he should even press further-- the man had never been interested in conversation much, always electing to simply order and sit in the cafe quietly. He gripped the edge of the counter nervously, eventually deciding to risk it. “Bad day?” Guanheng asked hesitantly.

The man hummed in response, ducking his head to look at his wallet as he pulled out his card. “You could say that,” he replied, and when he looked up at Guanheng, there was a hint of a smile on his face, almost as if he was amused that Guanheng had even asked. The sight tipped something in Guanheng’s mind, and before he knew what he was saying, he was blurting out, “Could I get your name?”

The man’s eyebrows rose quickly, then dropped, furrowing into a confused expression. Guanheng heard Yangyang stop his cleaning next to him, and he could nearly feel Xuxi’s gaze burning into him. “Sorry?” the man asked, and Guanheng had to purse his lips together to stop a nervous laugh from bubbling out. “My name?”

Guanheng knew he couldn’t back out now, so he nodded his head for a few moments, trying desperately to think of an explanation. “Since you’re a regular here,” he began tentatively, shooting a glance at Xuxi, who turned away to adamantly avoid eye contact with Guanheng. Traitor. “We thought you might feel more comfortable if we addressed you by name?” He looked back at the man with a smile, hoping that his lacklustre explanation was convincing enough.

It seemed to work, because the man nodded and his expression cleared, albeit slowly. “Sure,” he said, still a bit tentative, twirling his card between his fingers. “It’s Xiaojun.”

Guanheng grinned at that, nodding again, satisfied by his success. “Xiaojun,” he replied, trying out the word in his mouth. It felt nice, felt like something he could get used to saying. “Nice to meet you, I’m Guanheng.”

Xiaojun nodded in return, smiling fully this time. “Nice to meet you,” he said, then paused, hesitantly extending his card out to Guanheng. “Uh..”

Guanheng startled, hurrying to prepare the card machine. “Right!” he laughed nervously, handing the machine to Xiaojun after a moment of fumbling. “Right, you have to pay. Sorry.”

Xiaojun let out a little laugh, nodding as he tapped his card. “It’s okay,” he assured, then glanced up at Guanheng with a small smile. “Thank you, Guanheng.”

Guanheng felt his face heat up at the attention and he smiled dopily back. “No problem.”

Guanheng lingered around the register until Xiaojun had taken his coffee and gone to sit down before sinking down behind the pastry display, cheeks pink. He buried his face in his hands when he heard Yangyang say, “Aw damn, he’s fucked.”

From that day on, though, Xiaojun started talking to Guanheng more, much to the barista’s delight. It was never much, never a conversation that lasted more than a couple of minutes, but there were little bits of information that Guanheng was able to get from Xiaojun. He was new to the area, and came to Vision because it was convenient for him. He moved here to go to the University of Hong Kong, the same university as Guanheng himself attended. He was starting a Masters degree in the fall. It wasn’t much, superficial details that anyone would feel comfortable sharing, but to Guanheng, any information that Xiaojun was willing to share was welcome.

Still, though, Xiaojun never betrayed any signs of being interested in Guanheng, never asking about Guanheng’s life beyond what was the standard for politeness. Guanheng didn’t think he had much of a chance, until one day, when Xiaojun came in towards the end of Guanheng’s shift.

Xiaojun didn’t seem harried or in a rush— just a bit of a later start to the day than usual— and came up to the counter unbothered. Guanheng had just been wiping the counter, technically late for clocking out at the end of his shift, when he noticed Xiaojun.

“Hey, Xiaojun,” he said, glancing over. Yangyang was just coming out from the back room, ready to cover for Guanheng so he could clock out and head home. “I’m actually about to clock out, but my coworker Yangyang can help you?”

Xiaojun didn’t seem to have an issue with it, nodding and giving Guanheng a polite smile. Guanheng turned around to go into the back then, but before he was able to open the door, Xiaojun spoke up.

“Actually,” Xiaojun said suddenly, and Guanheng looked over his shoulder to find Xiaojun looking at him. His expression was slightly nervous, slightly hesitant, as if he didn’t know whether or not he should be asking Guanheng this. “Would you like to join me for coffee?”

Guanheng’s face lit up, knew that his excitement was written all over his face when he looked at Xiaojun. “Sure,” he said, and Xiaojun smiled back at him, a real genuine smile, “I’d love to.”

In just a couple of minutes, Guanheng and Xiaojun were seated at a table in the corner, the usual one that Xiaojun sat at except it was the two of them there this time. Xiaojun had insisted on paying for their order, despite Guanheng insisting on using his employee discount— the sleek black credit card was being tapped against the machine before Guanheng could even grab his wallet out. Xiaojun was sipping his blonde roast calmly, no laptop or notebook in sight today. Guanheng drank his mocha quietly, not wanting to break the tranquility between them.

Just when the silence was edging on awkward, Xiaojun spoke again, voice calm and smooth. “You wanted to know more about me, right?” he asked, tone even, but Guanheng could tell that he was nervous by the way he held his coffee cup, turning it to grasp the handle with one hand, then the other, then back again. “Or at least I’m assuming that’s why you talked to me.”

Guanheng’s first instinct was to brush Xiaojun’s assumption off, but there was nothing that could do to benefit him, so he chose to be honest. “Yeah,” he admitted, setting his mocha down. “Yeah, I’m curious about you. I want to get to know you.”

Xiaojun seemed to relax at that, leaning back in his chair and picking up his coffee cup. “So,” he said, pausing to take a sip. He looked at Guanheng, and for the first time, his expression wasn’t so closed off, a couple of the walls taken down. It made Guanheng eager— it gave him hope. “What do you want to know?”

Guanheng grinned at that, leaning forward slightly. “Well, where should I start?” he asked.

It became clear to Guanheng quickly that there were some things that Xiaojun didn’t quite want to talk about. He never refused to answer— he just found a roundabout way to avoid answering. Still, though, there were a lot of things that Xiaojun revealed about himself. He was born in Guangzhou, he was studying comparative literature at HKU, he wasn’t working anywhere at the moment. His major, especially, was something Xiaojun liked to talk about, getting excited when explaining the unfamiliar topics to Guanheng. It was nice to watch, for Guanheng— Xiaojun’s normal demure passivity dissolved as he continued talking, beginning to gesture as he explained. Guanheng knew he was grinning, enjoying watching as Xiaojun talked, and he raised his eyebrows when Xiaojun paused.

“Why are you smiling so much?” Xiaojun asked, hands paused in the air. Guanheng just shook his head, letting out a laugh.

“I just think you’re cute,” he said before he realized what he was doing, then watched in delight as Xiaojun’s ears slowly turned pink, his hands still held out.

“Oh,” Xiaojun said, putting his hands down slowly. “Well. Thank you, I guess.”

Guanheng shrugged, leaning forward again. “It’s true,” he said, enjoying that Xiaojun seemed to be getting flustered by his actions. He decided to let up, though, not wanting to push Xiaojun’s boundaries too far and ending up with him closing off. “Now, tell me more about literature.”

It took longer than Guanheng expected for the conversation to die down, the sun already dipping below the skyline. Their coffee cups had been emptied early on, but the conversation kept going long past that, until most of the cafe was empty other than them. They’d left together, Guanheng pausing at the bar to say goodbye to Yangyang, who was watching him with a satisfied smile.

The humidity that hit them when they exited Vision was almost stifling, but the dampness in the air couldn’t do anything to dampen Guanheng’s mood. Things had gone good— great, even, conversation flowing easily between him and Xiaojun once they got started. It seemed that Xiaojun felt it too, if the way his arm brushed up against Guanheng’s despite the heat was any indication.

“This was nice,” Xiaojun said softly, filling the silence, the two of them walking slowly to the bus stop. He was scuffing his feet, walking even slower than Guanheng, so Guanheng had to keep pausing in order to keep pace with him. “I don’t know many people here, so… Yeah.” He looked over at Xiaojun, shaking his head slightly so his bangs parted over his forehead. 

“It was nice,” Xiaojun finished, honest and open. “I’d like to do this again.”

Guanheng felt like his heart was a balloon in his chest, expanding and rising to fill it up. “Yeah?” he asked, grinning at Xiaojun.

Xiaojun nodded in return, grinning and letting out a small laugh before he turned his head away. “Yeah,” he answered, his voice softening. “Yeah, I would.”

Guanheng beamed, moving to step in front of Xiaojun, who looked up at him with wide eyes. He noticed Xiaojun’s eyes drop to his mouth, but he didn’t have time to process that— he was too busy digging his phone out of his pocket, opening his contacts and holding it out for Xiaojun.

“Here,” Guanheng offered, waving the phone slightly as Xiaojun reached out to take it. “Give me your number. I’ll text you, okay?”

It took Xiaojun a while to pull his eyes away from Guanheng’s face to be able to take the phone, his bony fingers moving across the screen. From this angle, the temptation from earlier passed through Guanheng’s mind— how easy it would be to lean in and kiss him, especially after he caught Xiaojun staring at his mouth earlier. Like this, he could see all the harsh lines of Xiaojun’s face, the sharp arch of his brow, the hollow of his cheeks, the point of his jaw; all it did was reinforce how much Guanheng liked him.

“Here,” Xiaojun said eventually, looking up. Guanheng hadn’t realized they were standing so close, but when Xiaojun looked up, their noses nearly bumped. Xiaojun seemed to startle, stepping back a bit, and Guanheng let him go. It was too soon for something like that— he wanted to get to know Xiaojun more before making any moves like that.

“I texted myself, so I’ll have your number,” Xiaojun said hurriedly, avoiding Guanheng’s gaze. He held the phone back out for Guanheng, who took it just as his bus pulled up to the stop.

“Good,” Guanheng said, pocketing it as he moved to get on the bus. “I’ll text you so we can meet up, okay?”

Xiaojun nodded, wrapping his arms around himself. He seemed nervous still, a bit startled from how close they were earlier, but there was an ease that Guanheng hadn’t seen before, a smile on his face that Guanheng wasn’t used to. “Sounds great,” he called after Guanheng, lifting a hand to wave at him. “Get home safe, Guanheng.”

Guanheng waved, grinning at Xiaojun through the window as the bus closed its doors. The smile stayed on his face long after the bus carried him away, the sun slowly sinking down.

It started like that— modest meetings, coffee after Guanheng’s shifts at the cafe, casual texts during the hours they weren’t together. Then, as the heat of July bled into August, things graduated from coffee to dinner at each other’s favourite restaurants, then to Guanheng going over to Xiaojun’s place, cooking together in his small kitchen. It was where they kissed for the first time, Guanheng elbow deep in soapy water as he washed the dinner dishes in Xiaojun’s sink. It was soft, Xiaojun moving his lips tentatively, but once Guanheng had a chance to dry his hands and kiss Xiaojun properly, the hesitance was gone. They never put a label to their relationship, but Guanheng never felt that they needed one— all he knew was that he liked Xiaojun, and Xiaojun liked him, and sometimes they kissed on the couch in Xiaojun’s apartment. That was all that mattered to him.

It was on a night like this that it happened for the first time. The two of them were curled up on the couch, Xiaojun’s head on Guanheng’s shoulder as they watched a movie on Xiaojun’s laptop. It was propped up on the coffee table, along with a spread of Szechuan takeout, picked at and half-empty from their dinner earlier. It was a nice evening, relaxed, casual— then Xiaojun’s phone rang on the table, lighting up with the name “Sicheng”.

Guanheng looked over to it, about to encourage Xiaojun to answer it, but Xiaojun was already leaning forward, hurrying to reject the call. It startled Guanheng with how sudden it was— Xiaojun was never the type to act that eager to hide something, always coolly deflecting things that he didn’t want to talk about. The franticness sent alarm bells ringing in Guanheng’s head.

“Who was that?” he asked as Xiaojun leaned back against him, tucking his head into Guanheng’s shoulder. Xiaojun shrugged, making himself comfortable.

“No one,” he said, but Guanheng knew that tone. It was the tone Xiaojun used whenever he didn’t want to talk about something, a tone that Guanheng was well-versed with. Normally, it didn’t bother him— Xiaojun was just a private person, leaning more on the side of introverted. But Guanheng couldn’t see a reason for Xiaojun to not want to talk about this person. Was he a sibling? A friend? An ex? Why wouldn’t Xiaojun share it with him?

Still, though, as curious as Guanheng was, he knew better than to push. Pushing Xiaojun would just lead to him closing off, and that was the last thing that Guanheng wanted. Their relationship was good, and they had only been together for about a month; Guanheng didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth and ruin something that wasn’t even bad to begin with.

If it had happened only once, Guanheng might have let it go. But it wasn’t just once— it happened again, and again, sometimes even multiple times per day. It seemed that no matter what they were doing, whether they were out for coffee or dinner or just laying in Xiaojun’s bed to sleep, there was always a call coming through, always a text notification rattling his phone. And they were always from this “Sicheng”, the one part of life that Xiaojun consistently blocked away from Guanheng.

The lack of information made Guanheng’s head spiral, though, and it only took a couple weeks of this before Guanheng was calling Yangyang and Xuxi out to his apartment, the three of them sitting on the floor of Guanheng’s cramped living space.

“Hypothetically,” Guanheng began nervously, swirling his milk tea in front of him, “if I was being cheated on, how would I be able to tell?”

Xuxi spluttered violently, his own milk tea nearly shooting out of his nose. “Xiaojun is cheating on you?!” he shouted as Guanheng and Yangyang flinched backwards.

“ _ Hypothetically _ ,” Guanheng repeated, enunciating the word clearly. “Hypothetically, if Xiaojun was cheating on me, how would I know?”

Yangyang let out a concerned noise, shifting so he could sit more directly facing Guanheng. “Well, hypothetically,” he said, giving Xuxi a disgusted look out of the corner of his eye as the other boy tried to clear his airway of milk tea, “what would make you think so?”

Guanheng sighed, resting his chin in a hand. “He keeps getting calls and texts from this guy named Sicheng,” he admitted, head lolling so he could look at Yangyang. “He never answers anything, but he always just says it’s just nothing. But if it’s nothing, why does he keep getting these calls, and why does he never tell me who this guy is?” He hesitated, glancing at Xuxi, who was staring at him intensely. “Hypothetically, of course,” he added hastily.

Yangyang whistled, leaning back on his hands. “Well, that’s definitely suspicious, hypothetically,” he agreed, and Xuxi nodded his head grimly.

“If he is hypothetically cheating, he’s been doing a terrible job hiding it,” Xuxi commented bitterly, taking a sip of his milk tea. “What an asshole,” he added, mouth full of tapioca, and he nearly choked when Yangyang kicked a leg out at him.

“You should probably talk to him about it before making any assumptions,” Yangyang advised, and Guanheng groaned, falling onto his back dramatically and narrowly managing to avoid hitting his head on his desk behind him. “You don’t want to get yourself upset over something that might not even exist.”

“But if I bring it up and it’s not true, then I look like an asshole,” Guanheng complained, running a hand through his hair. “Why won’t he just tell me who this guy is? I don’t get it. If it’s nothing, then it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

Xuxi bit the top of his straw nervously, curled up into a small space despite his hulking size. “I don’t get it either,” he muttered, frowning. “He should just be honest with you.”

Yangyang shrugged, resting his weight on one arm in order to grab his own milk tea and take a sip. “Yeah, you might look like an asshole if you’re wrong,” he warned, “but if I were you, I’d rather be wrong and look like an asshole than get played for god knows how long because I was too scared to bring things up.”

Yangyang’s advice echoed in Guanheng’s head the next time him and Xiaojun met up, this time at Guanheng’s cramped flat instead of Xiaojun’s graduate suite. When the phone rang again, the name “Sicheng” now expected and familiar on the screen to Guanheng, he let out a sigh.

“Xiaojun,” he said seriously, looking at the other boy as he hurried to reject the call. “Are you seeing someone else?”

Xiaojun’s head whipped around to face him, thick eyebrows furrowed in a confused expression. “What?” he blurted out, then shook his head. “No, I’m not. Where did you get that idea?”

“You can tell me if you are,” Guanheng urged, not wanting to admit to his jealousy just yet. Maybe Xiaojun was just shocked that Guanheng had figured things out. “It’s fine. I know we didn’t put any labels on our relationship, so it wouldn’t be fair of me to expect that we should be exclusive.”

Xiaojun shook his head, eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?” he asked incredulously, putting a hand to his chest. “Of course we’re exclusive. You’re my boyfriend. I’m not seeing anyone else and I never had any plans to.”

Guanheng couldn’t hold back his words any more, any sort of passiveness thrown to the wind at Xiaojun’s vehement denial. “Then who is Sicheng?” he demanded, taking a step closer to Xiaojun. 

Instantly, Xiaojun gripped his phone tighter, holding it slightly behind himself to get it further away from Guanheng. The sight made Guanheng’s heart clench. “I told you already, it’s nothing,” he said bitterly. “Guanheng, seriously, you don’t have to worry about him.

“If it’s nothing, then why is he always calling you?” Guanheng insisted, frustrated. He just wanted to know— he was tired of all the thoughts running through his head, making him angry and distrustful with Xiaojun. “If it’s nothing, then just tell me Xiaojun, because I swear—”

“He’s my  _ editor _ ,” Xiaojun said suddenly, voice shaking. When Guanheng looked closer, he realized Xiaojun was shaking too, the hand gripping his phone rattling behind him. “He’s my editor, Guanheng, I swear, he’s not anyone you need to worry about.”

Guanheng stared at Xiaojun for a moment, trying to make things make sense in his head. “Editor?” he echoed, confused. “Why would you need an editor?”

Xiaojun took a breath, deep and shuddering, and Guanheng felt guilt sinking into his stomach. Xiaojun was visibly uncomfortable, and the fact that it was because of his own actions made Guanheng feel like shit. “Because,” he said slowly, trying to keep his voice even, “my name is really Xiao Dejun, and I currently have three national bestselling novels.”

At first, Guanheng didn’t believe his words, but the longer he thought about it, the more things began to click into place. The money that seemed to come from nowhere. The hours upon hours Xiaojun spent typing on his laptop despite the semester still yet to begin. The interest and excitement in anything related to literature. It made sense now.

“Wow,” Guanheng said, taking a step back from Xiaojun. “That’s… A surprise.”

Xiaojun— or Dejun now, Guanheng thought absently, since Xiaojun wasn’t his real name— nodded, his shoulders sagging. “I didn’t want to tell you,” he admitted pathetically, “because I didn’t want you to think of me as some sort of celebrity or anything. I just wanted to be normal.”

Guanheng’s eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head, looking at Dejun confusedly. “Why would I treat you like a celebrity?” he asked, genuinely curious. “You’re just someone who writes books, right? That doesn’t really make you famous.”

Dejun’s body seemed to relax at that, before his expression morphed so that the confusion on Guanheng’s face was reflected on his own. “Wait,” he began, “you’ve never heard my name before? Or of anything I’ve written?”

Guanheng almost let out a laugh at that, and he shook his head quickly. “I don’t think I ever told you this,” he said carefully, “but my major is robotics engineering. I don’t really read anything other than lab manuals and textbooks.”

Slowly, Dejun’s expression relaxed, and his face lit up. “So you’ve never heard of me?” he asked eagerly. “At all?”

“Never,” Guanheng replied honestly. The relief pouring off of Dejun was nearly palpable, and it made Guanheng smile. “You’re just Xiaojun the regular from the cafe, to me.”

Dejun actually ended up laughing at that, rubbing his face with his hand in relief. “Well,” he chuckled tiredly, moving to sit on Dejun’s bed, “don’t I feel like an idiot.”

Guanheng shook his head, amused. “You aren’t,” he assured, moving to sit next to Dejun. He wrapped an arm around Dejun’s shoulders, pulling him close, and the sigh that Dejun let out as he leaned into his body warmed Guanheng’s heart. He wished Dejun didn’t worry so much about things, but he was glad things were out in the open now. “You were worried, and that was fine. I just wish you had told me sooner.”

“Yeah,” Dejun murmured, mouth against Guanheng’s shoulder. Guanheng leaned over to plant a gentle kiss on the top of his head. “I wish I had too.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the tension in their bodies unravelling. It was nice, to be able to sit in silence like this— Dejun was never the type to fill up silences with talking, and Guanheng appreciated the companionship. After a few minutes, though, he pulled back, dropping his arm to Dejun’s waist as he looked up at him curiously.

“I’m glad you aren’t cheating on me,” Guanheng began, smiling at Dejun’s tired expression, “but I’m still confused as to why you’re avoiding your editor.”

“Oh,” Dejun said, blinking as he sat up straight. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously with one hand, his other hand setting his phone down on the bed. “Well. It’s kind of a long story.”

Guanheng shrugged, moving back to lay down on the bed. He set Dejun’s phone on the nightstand, then tugged at Dejun’s wrist, making room for Dejun to lay down next to him. It was a tight squeeze in Guanheng’s single bed, but they made it work. “Long stories are fine,” Guanheng said, cuddling up to Dejun despite the heat of summer still hanging in the air. “We have all night.”

And so Dejun told him, all walls down and no information held back. He told Guanheng that he finished high school early, then moved to Beijing to get his start as an author while doing his Bachelors degree. How he got picked up by a publishing company during his first semester there for a book he had written as part of a school project, and the company turned the novel into a success. How there was pressure on Dejun to push out book after book every year after that; and how, at the beginning of this summer, when Dejun had had enough, he packed up his bags and moved to Hong Kong without telling anyone in order to continue his studies here.

“There was just so much pressure all the time,” Dejun finished, staring at the ceiling with a troubled expression. “Not just to write, but to write what they wanted me to write, what they thought would be successful. I just… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Guanheng hummed, stroking a hand through Dejun’s hair comfortingly. “It does sound stressful,” he began, then paused, fingers stroking along Dejun’s scalp. He watched the way Dejun’s eyelids fluttered at the feeling and felt something squeeze in his chest.

“Why don’t you just answer to let him know you’re taking a break from writing?” Guanheng suggested gently. “You don’t have to explain, just let him know you’re alive and not writing right now. Like quitting a job, or requesting a leave from something. They should understand.”

Dejun sighed, tipping his head into Guanheng’s touch. “I’m just worried he’ll try and talk me into coming back,” he mumbled. “I already feel guilty enough about leaving, so it wouldn’t take much.”

“Just text him, then,” Guanheng offered. “That way you can just easily ignore all his other messages. Much easier than a phone call.”

Dejun hummed, seeming to contemplate things for a moment, before he suddenly rolled over and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, unlocking it with deft fingers. Guanheng watched as Dejun opened his messages with Sicheng— a huge number of unread notifications clearing when he did so— and typed out a message, brisk and to the point, then sent it off before putting his phone back on the nightstand.

“There,” Dejun said, a bit of guilt still lingering in his voice, but mostly relief. “It’s done. Can we sleep now?”

Guanheng grinned at that, nodding as he pulled Dejun closer. It felt good to hold Dejun like this, his lithe body seeming to fit against Guanheng’s own like they were made to stick together. “Sure,” he murmured. “I’ll treat you to coffee tomorrow. I know this great little place, they roast their beans in small batches…”

He grinned as Dejun laughed, his breath fanning out against Guanheng’s neck. “Sure,” Dejun replied, throwing an arm over Guanheng’s waist. “Can’t wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> big thanks to m, as always, for holding my hand through all of my whining about the process of figuring out how to write this fic. a special and HUGE thanks to d, my partner in crime for this fest, for holding my hand way more than you probably should have lol. you're my whole ass child and i love u. thank you to k, n, and j for letting me talk about this fic to them despite all of them having marginal knowledge of wayv at best. thank you to the mods for tolerating all of my extension requests and time zone mix ups and the inordinate amount of time it took me to finish this fic. thank you to the prompter for suggesting such a wonderful prompt that i had to much fun exploring; i hope you're satisfied with the outcome. but most of all, thank you, the reader, for reading!
> 
> now that this is revealed, you can find me on twitter [here!](https://www.twitter.com/nappeuns_)


End file.
